


stumble past the discovery

by summerstorm



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerstorm/pseuds/summerstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first it was fine; kissing him was new, sneaking around was new, hell, even holding hands was new. Aria was perfectly capable of taking baby steps and not pushing Ezra to do anything less than legal. And it's not like what they do isn't hot. It's definitely hot. It's definitely a turn-on.</p><p>It's definitely a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stumble past the discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt _I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain._. Title from Andrew Belle.

Aria thought it would be easy to date Ezra within the confines of the short spans of time they could be _together_ ; she figured there were enough external complications that, even if they took things slow to the point of abstinence, what hung just on them would be more than good enough.

And it's good, it is, but it's definitely not enough.

At first it was fine; kissing him was new, sneaking around was new, hell, even holding hands was new. Aria was perfectly capable of taking baby steps and not pushing Ezra to do anything less than legal. And it's not like what they do isn't hot. It's definitely hot. It's definitely a turn-on.

It's definitely a problem.

"I can't wait until I get home," she snaps.

"What?" he says, pulling back and gazing down at her. They're lying on his bed, a concession that was made and never talked about again, for good reason. It wasn't even supposed to happen; it was this offhand dare, getting 100% right on her exam, and he wasn't really expecting her to take it seriously, and she wasn't really expecting him to carry out his side of the deal. It's the most his being her teacher has bled into their relationship, and it's kind of creepy to think about, even if they brought it upon themselves.

"I can't wait to come until I get home," she says, screwing up her face apologetically. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't say that, but I just—I can't. I need—I can do it myself. It doesn't have to be like, I don't know." She does know: it doesn't have to be actual, mutual sex. She just wants to stick her hand down her panties and get herself off.

"I—I can't," Ezra says clearly, even though she's not sure what he's saying he can't do, exactly. It's probably supposed to encompass everything. "You can leave now. If you'd rather—"

"I don't want to leave."

He snorts. "No, you just want to masturbate in my bed. With me in it." His tone shifts as he says it, going from annoyed to incredulous.

There's a stretch of silence; he eyes her inquisitively, and she returns the stare, cautious and a bit wary.

Eventually, she breaks down. "If you're expecting me to say you got that wrong, you didn't. That's pretty much what I was going for."

He shakes his head lightly, almost imperceptibly, confusion rather than denial. It occurs to her they just pretty much paused what they were doing and she should be waking up, feeling a little less needy, but just the _idea_ of doing this—of touching herself in front of Ezra—has her on edge, stomach taut and almost painful, chest heaving.

"Is it so wrong? You're not touching me," Aria says, "you're not even looking. You can pretend it's not even going on."

"I can't pretend you're not touching yourself," he says. She talks over the last two words, but she hears them all the same.

"You pretend I'm totally still instead of squirming like a— all the time." It's true; he does. For all that he keeps his hands over her clothes and away from every single place she's truly desperate to be touched, he can't control the way she reacts. She squeezes an arm between their bodies and cups herself through her skirt, pressing the heel of her hand down. It's supposed to be comforting, but she's so far gone it's just even more frustrating, and she's not even thinking when she bundles her skirt up by her hip—the least revealing side to drag it up—and sneaks her hand into her underwear. By the time she gets home, she's never this wet. It's better when she's like this, easier, more satisfying. She wishes she could tone down the way her body responds to just making out with Ezra, too. She does.

Even she can't control the way she reacts.

"Yeah, it's exactly the same," he says dryly, "except for the hand up your skirt."

"The underwear I'm wearing is totally opaque," she says, shrugging. "I mean, they're practically boyshorts. You don't have to see anything if you don't want to."

His lips are a thin line now, closed off. "It's the not wanting to part I'm worried about."

She tangles her free fingers in the hair on the back of his head and pulls him down. "Just — kiss me," she says, biting her lip, and he sighs, and he listens, for once. He kisses her as she spreads herself out, fingers sliding so, so easily she can't help slipping one inside herself, wrist tilting up, stretching her underwear and brushing his crotch through several layers of clothing.

His mouth swallows her moan, and she takes her fingers back up, zeroing in on her clit. She knows he's not entirely comfortable with this, and that's the fastest way she knows to take the edge off.

He keeps kissing her until she stops responding, until her body's so tight she can't pay attention to what her mouth is doing anymore. Her jaw hangs a little open, shifting around her panting breaths, and he licks around her lips before nosing across her cheek and moving his mouth to her neck.

He's making good on his word: he's pretending she's not doing anything. Both his hands are beside her, only sometimes holding her waist or her hip or tracing the side of her breast. His body is warm, though, warmer than before, and she can feel his heart rate spiking when she touches her thumb to his neck. She knew he was noticing, but feeling him react to it is a rush, and she needs more, she needs—

It takes a little angling and experimenting to come up with a different, better rhythm, but she manages it better than she ever has on her own.

When she focuses on him, he's stopped kissing her, stopped biting or sucking on skin. His lips brush her earlobe softly, that's all.

"Come on," he's saying, voice trying for matter of fact but coming out with an edge of need that goes straight between her legs. He says it again, coaxing the waves of pleasure going through her body to burst, and it should not work as well and as suddenly as it does, but she'd be lying if she said she's surprised by the effect he has on her. Her orgasm, however, shocks her off center, her body shaking and hips rising to ride it out.

When she comes to, he's lying next to instead of over her. He's looking at her; she's still fully dressed, rumpled clothes and all. She slides her hand out from under her skirt, feeling a little embarrassed all of a sudden, in the cold light of not needing to get off so much.

His hand comes up to her shoulder, and she trails warm fingers down her arm. He glances down at her hand and says, "Would you mind?" like it makes any sense, like he's expecting her to say yes when she doesn't even know what he's asking.

She shakes her head, and he lifts her wrist a little, bending over her body and bringing her fingers to his—to his mouth.

Aria laughs, weak and still kind of shaky, and watches him suck her fingers into his mouth for a moment, trying not to be turned on by it. It's kind of impossible, so she closes her eyes, and the lack of visual softens it just enough for it to be calmly pleasant.

Being kissed comes as a surprise, and she gasps into his mouth, tasting herself faintly there. She's just thinking she could do this all night when he breaks away and says, "I think you should go," and she realizes they're still who they are. Still in the same position as before, where he's her teacher and she's underage and everything about sleeping together would just make things worse.

"Yeah, you're probably right," she says. She sits up and dodges his eyes for just a second as she straightens out her skirt.

"Don't feel—" he says when she's standing, already on his feet to show her out, and she turns to face him. "Don't feel guilty. About that. I don't know if you're—I don't want you to feel guilty."

"I won't," she says with a shrug, smiling lightly until his face stops looking so blank, until a corner of his mouth shifts upwards. "I'll show myself out," and stands on her toes to kiss him again before leaving.


End file.
